Buscar:room 10

KiNK's first release on Sofia Records this year lives up to its title and its creator's reputation. The relentless energy, love of musical adventure and undamped enthusiasm of a KiNK live set can be found here in all its glory.

Wake Up is not only an instruction and a hidden compliment to Laurent Garnier, it's also evidence of the Bulgarians uncanny ability to deliver steamrollers with various twists and turns, while hitting the peak effortlessly.
Beep Beep adds a certain element of mania to the menu. For the lack of a better description, please imagine Mr. Oizo and Steve Poindexter making a record together. Not for the faint at heart.
That can be said for the rest of the EP as well. Featuring Redeye, Room To Jack is on the same level of Beep Beep. Traditional topics of Chicago House get a bench test on a speed farm.
Dancing to Scrambler one would probably need the same room to jack. Swapping the Windy City with British raving fields, KiNK and Raredub deliver a take on the early sound of UK that might miss breakbeats, but manage to re-use all the other ingredients to a hair: fine-tuned and updated. Quotation without modern misinterpretation. Hyper and epic at the same time. And always remember the future!

Luke Slater presents "Sky Scraping", a new Planetary Assault Systems album. P.A.S. has become a byword for hypnotic, funk-heavy Techno in a purist tradition. Toeing the line between heady, psychedelic material and all out main room fare - Slater's work as PAS captures the very best facets of the genre, with economically selected parts exquisitely arranged and engineered with a shrewd and uncompromising ear for what really makes people move.

Barren wastelands, a distant moon.
Far screeches: gloomy rituals.
Piercing cries.


The deepest indigo, a desolate and rude imagery.
Yoga-darśana : this is a den of iniquity.


Hyperlacrimae’s savage sound shows the Italian duo’s roots in industrial music with the addition of a strong dark-infused oniric attitude.
Straddling post-industrial sounds and a personal style with tribal and catacombic features.
A sort of mystical and distorted ritual, a wild dance with an ancient and primordial flavour.
The LP oscillates between a raw intense dynamism - fully demonstrated by “Kobra”, the album’s climax, “Kogawa No Gotsu” and “Blood Ties” - and a sense of perdition, evinced in reflective acts like “Incubus” and the outro “Korekore-Matakawa”. There’s also room for the distressing atmosphere of “In My Poison”, a contemporary example of obscure Industrial’s heaviest face.
The remixers Shrouds, Impure Secretion, Scarpa participate with three reinterpretations of great impact.


Recorded and Produced by Erminio Granata & Carmine Laurenza
Vocals by Carmine Laurenza
Mastered by Hyperlacrimae at Red Dungeon (Naples)
Artworks and Photos by Nullam Rem Natam (Athens)
Design and Layout by Erminio Granata

Mannequin's 100th - a comp looking forward featuring an international and serious cast... BIG TIP!
The modern synthwave scene would be significantly poorer without the keen ear and tireless efforts of the Mannequin label run by Alessandro Adriani. Geographically situated within the nerve centers of Rome and Berlin, yet with a musical spirit that easily transcends these boundary lines, Mannequin's back catalog has been an important component in the modular assemblage that makes up electronics-based independent music in the 21st century, and an important reference point for those who need to defend against the lazy accusations that this such is purely retro' in its form and content. Recent accolades and accomplishments - being named Resident Advisor's label of the month' for May of this year, starting the 'Death of the Machines' 12' series, and being given the 'green light' for bi-monthly parties at the Säule room in Berghain - have been earned through Mannequin's unflagging commitment to sonic diversity and Adriani's own realization that the anxious and sharp-edged sounds associated with, say, the Cold War of the 1980s can convey a completely different message today. Adriani says it best when claiming that there is no such thing as 'old' or 'new' music...only the music of now'. With this cogent statement of intent, Mannequin continues to go on exploratory missions to find the best and most relevant aspects of genres like acid, industrial, EBM, post-punk, coldwave and still more.

Which brings us to Mannequin's newest project and 100th release overall: the Waves of the Future double LP compilation, which itself is not a conventional retrospective collection. Case in point - none of the artists appearing on this collection have put out their own releases on Mannequin yet, despite acting as Mannequin's unofficial ambassadors (via DJ sets and other means). This makes the set even more compelling rather than less so, since it shows how Mannequin fits into a larger picture that includes other scene leaders and label owners including Beau Wanzer, Willie Burns (WT Records), Silent Servant (Jealous God) and Ron Morelli (L.I.E.S.). Of equal importance is how Waves of the Future projects a sense of aesthetic resilience and continuity, showcasing just how well the current artists allied with Mannequin employ and re-interpret the sonic lexicon that appears on that label's reissues of 'classic' acts such as Nocturnal Emissions, Bourbonese Qualk, Din A Testbild and Doris Norton.

However, none of this would matter as much if the music itself didn't have strong potential for lighting a blaze in the dark corners of the human imagination, and of course for forcing bodies into motion. Each track here pivots around a couple of key sound elements that seem to set the stage for the next track to come: see the sputtering / chopped ghost voices on Morelli's Charges Won't Stick,' which easily informs the slicing drone and authoritarian beat of Shawn O' Sullivan's Ill Fit,' which then lays down the emotional foundation for the sequencer-powered With You' from An-I & Adriani or the glassy landscape of Illum Sphere's Exhaustion'. Elsewhere, the wired mischief of Not Waving intersects easily with the spherical electro-funk and coded commands of Beau Wanzer. When all the disparate parts of Waves of the Future are soldered together, it perfectly illustrates Mannequin's non-linear philosophy and Adriani's suggestion that Mannequin listeners directly engage with the music rather than trying too hard to analyze or dissect it.

Nachtbraker is back! It's been a huge year for the Amsterdam deep house juggernaut who returns to Dirt Crew with his all new and colorfully titled "Really Ties The Room Together" EP. Constantly on the move, he's found time between touring throughout Europe, Asia and South America to continue to push his a-typical house sound forward with this year's HEIST release and his quirky jam "Busy Bee" that was featured on our "Deep Love 100 Compilation. This three tracker is jam packed with bouncing club tunes and a whole lot of flange. Things kick off with the title track "Really Ties The Room Together". It twists and turns over an unconventional but irresistible groove, shimmying shakers, brass stabs and a serpentine riff work together creating a super tight dance floor cut. "Rew" begins somewhere in deeper territory, suspense building beneath the clouds, a rumbling bass rolls in from over the horizon before a glorious funk guitar blows the whole thing wide open, letting the sun's rays burst through and that familiar Nachtbraker good time energy shine in. The rerub of "Rew" is something altogether new from our deep house protagonist, a break beat and casual groove guide gently towards an ever intensifying acid trip. Don't be fooled by the lovely deep chords, things get nasty in the end. It's best to expect the unexpected from our adventurous resident producer, and this EP is no exception.

2026 repress

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Ten years ago, Anderson .Paak didn't just release an album; he staged a full-scale takeover of the soul and hip-hop landscape. Released on January 15, 2016, Malibu served as the definitive arrival of an artist who had spent years grinding in the underground before a star-making turn on Dr. Dre’s Compton. While his previous work hinted at his potential, Malibu was the moment the world met the "Cheeky Andy" persona in full—a virtuosic drummer, a raspy-voiced crooner, and a sharp-witted rapper all rolled into one. The album is a sprawling, sun-drenched journey through the Southern California coast, blending 1970s funk, church-reared gospel, and gritty boom-bap into something that feels both nostalgic and entirely futuristic. With a heavyweight production lineup including 9th Wonder, Madlib, Kaytranada, and Hi-Tek, the record maintains a warm, analog texture that was a breath of fresh air in an increasingly digital era. It’s an album that breathes, full of intentional imperfections and the kind of "in-the-pocket" groove that can only come from a seasoned live performer. Beyond the infectious, dance-floor-ready energy of tracks like "Am I Wrong" and "Come Down," the album is a deeply autobiographical masterwork. .Paak uses the 65-minute runtime to unpack his life story with startling clarity, touching on his mother’s gambling addiction, his father’s incarceration, and his own brushes with homelessness with a sense of resilience that never feels heavy-handed. He weaves these heavy themes through a lens of triumph, grounded by vintage surfing documentary samples that give the project its cinematic, coastal atmosphere. It’s a celebratory record born out of struggle, anchored by his impeccable technicality on the drums and a guest list—featuring ScHoolboy Q, Rapsody, and The Game—that feels hand-picked to complement his specific brand of West Coast swagger. A decade later, Malibu stands as a modern classic and the blueprint for the soulful revivalism that would eventually lead .Paak to global superstardom and Grammy-winning heights. It remains a testament to the idea that the most profound music often comes from the most personal places, proving ten years on that the best way to move forward is to stay rooted in the groove.

Out Loud is the debut solo album from Gary Klebe, guitarist/vocalist of the power-pop band Shoes. Formed in Zion, Illinois in 1974, Shoes was influenced by British Invasion groups of the 1960s and artists like Big Star, Bowie, the Move, Todd Rundgren, Nils Lofgren. The band first gained attention by self-releasing records on their own Black Vinyl Records label before signing to Elektra Records. Albums like Black Vinyl Shoes, Present Tense, and Tongue Twister earned them critical acclaim and cult-favorite status, with songs such as “Too Late,” “Tomorrow Night,” and “Your Imagination” becoming genre touchstones. Shoes’ melodic craftsmanship and independent spirit have made them hugely influential, inspiring generations of power-pop and indie rock bands.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Carve is the second full-length by Bay Area artist Kathryn Mohr. Written over the course of five years and recorded over several weeks in a rural singlewide in the Mojave Desert, the album centers on love experienced as a form of grief, not as an aftermath of loss, but as a condition of intimacy itself.

Mohr describes Carve as an album about how memory exists outside the body, embedded in places and landscapes. It is shaped by her first return to the American Southwest since a childhood road trip at age five, and by the experience of moving through terrain that holds emotional weight long after its origins fade. The record considers how intimacy feels after years of isolation, and what it takes to carve out a life that allows for trust, presence, and feeling rather than mere survival. The project took form after a difficult tour that ended in Joshua Tree. Mohr pointed her car into the desert and drove alone, crisscrossing the Mojave on dirt roads. Months later, she returned to record the album, working alone with an acoustic guitar, a field recorder, and limited supplies. Following that period, Mohr began to allow for intimacy and connection. The time she spent recording Carve in the desert did not create isolation so much as mirror it. Working alone out of an old, western-themed jail Airbnb, the physical enclosure reflected the emotional conditions under which much of the record had been written: distance, restraint, and long stretches of stillness. In that context, love was not experienced as escape, but as something inseparable from impermanence and the awareness of loss.

This tension between connection and inevitability sits at the center of Carve. Some of the album’s songs were written earlier, during a prolonged period marked by emotional distance and apathy. Over those four years, Mohr was working through unprocessed childhood memories and their long-term effects on her ability to connect with others. The work was slow and difficult, involving a fundamental reshaping of how she related to herself and to the world. Carve was mixed by Richard Chowenhill of Flenser labelmates Agriculture. Rather than offering resolution, the album documents the act of remaining present within tension. Carve is not about escaping grief, but about accepting it as inseparable from love itself. Kathryn Mohr’s previous effort “Waiting Room” received the coveted ‘Best New Music' designation and a score of 8.4 from Pitchfork.

Early Days (2016-2019) is a new collection of previously unreleased songs from Mauri Tapia a.k.a Los Retros. From a young age, Tapia has been a prolific songwriter, spending his teenage years writing and recording song after song. Influenced by soft rock and left-field South American pop, Early Days (2016-2019) captures the sound of this formative era Streaming everywhere today, Early Days consisting of 15 tracks, recorded from Mauri's parents' living room using nothing more than an old four-track recorder, that only existed in low quality online, now mastered, sequenced, and physically released for the first time. It was during these sessions that Los Retros created the song "Someone to Spend Time With", now certified Gold. Early Days comes with a companion visual for "Without You", edited by close friend and collaborator Ross Harris from found footage of early Los Retros tour stops. Check out Los Retros proper debut "Odisea" released simultaneously too. FFO soul, bedroom pop, indie, modern jazz, downtempo, soft rock, Mac DeMarco, Thee Sacred Souls, Skinshape, Men I Trust, Too Slow To Disco